Last Chance Beauty Queen (22 page)

BOOK: Last Chance Beauty Queen
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“I’m not worried,” Dash said. “I figure his Lordship is about as far from a regular guy who works with his hands as a man can get.” He glanced at his aunt. “And I have complete faith in Aunt Mim.”

Rachel squinted in the semidarkness trying to read Bubba’s battered features. It was impossible. The lighting in the fun house was supposed to be dark and murky. There were couples stashed in several corners.

“Gee, Rachel, you’re really taking this whole kiss-off thing to heart, aren’t you? Bubba said in a husky voice.

Yes, she was. The fun house was the perfect place to indulge the fantasy of a lifetime. She’d been wanting to kiss Bubba Lockheart since she was fourteen. But of course, Bubba was sweet on Rocky, and Rocky was her best friend so she’d stayed away.

And after Rocky dumped Bubba, there had never been a moment like this one, where Bubba had been interested in kissing anyone else.

She pressed her lips gently to the corner of his mouth one more time, then she let her hands roam through his spiky hair and touch the texture of his beard and squeeze his totally ripped biceps.

He was a god among men.

He let go of a little groan and then, to her utter astonishment, Bubba reversed their directions and kind of pressed her up against the wall.

His mouth didn’t seem to be all that damaged, it turned out. And time kind of ran away with them.

“Uh, Rachel,” Bubba finally said against her cheek.

“Uh-huh.”

“Why are you kissing me like this? Is it only because I bought them?” He sounded a little forlorn.

“Um. Well.” Her voice stuck in her throat.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“No.” She said the word so fast she didn’t even think about it before it left her lips. She pulled back so she could look at him. In the black light, his T-shirt glowed purple, but his face was dark. “No, Bubba, it’s not because you bought them.”

“But that’s just weird. I mean, you and me together. We’re not exactly made for each other, you know?”

“Why do you say that?”

He shrugged. “Your daddy is a banker and you finished college, and I’m just a mechanic.”

“Yeah, but you’re the best mechanic in the county. And Daddy says that a good mechanic is worth his weight in gold.”

Bubba chuckled. “Well, you tell him thanks when you see him.”

“Anyways, you went to college, Bubba.”

“I flunked out. Besides I only went to college so I could play football. And you know…”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have let Rocky break your heart like that.”

His shoulders tensed. “You know, it really wasn’t like that,” he said.

“What wasn’t like what?”

“I mean folks always say that I flunked out of college because of what Rocky did, but that’s not what really happened.”

“What happened?”

“I partied. I messed up. I’m not real smart, and I wasn’t really big enough to be first string up in Clemson. I mean, I got up there and I hated it. I just wanted to come home and be me, you know?”

She laughed. “Yeah, I know. I felt the same way when I was living in Columbia. Everyone thinks it was my breakup with Justin that sent me home. But the truth is, I told Justin I wanted to go home before we broke up. I didn’t like living in the city.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nope. I like living here, where everyone knows me.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

He pushed away from the wall where they’d been
leaning. “You know it’s kind of dark in here for a conversation. You want to go get some funnel cakes?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Bubba took her by the hand and half dragged her out of the dark. They stumbled through the rotating drum at the end of the fun house and back out into the light of day.

They blinked at each other in the late afternoon sunshine. He looked battered but handsome, and somehow not nearly as unapproachable as he’d been an hour ago. She smiled at him, and he smiled right back, gap-toothed and all.

The funnel cake stand was way down the curving midway, and Bubba took a shortcut to the left and down a row of trees along the stock pens and exhibition area. They got about halfway there before they encountered a few men in cowboy hats watching a group of 4-H foals.

The men were talking and laughing together, and their voices carried on the wind, along with the unmistakable scent of barn animals.

“I swear, Allen,” one of the men said, “she lit into me with every four-letter word in the book until I explained that the whole lasso scenario was merely a ruse to get Bubba to rethink his life.”

Bubba stopped in his tracks and stared at the men across the small patch of scraggly summer grass that separated him from them. Rachel recognized the voice, and the men. It was Dash Randall with the Canaday twins.

“C’mon, Bubba, let’s go.” Rachel tugged at his hand. He didn’t budge.

“You don’t want to get into another fight. Not with Dash,” Rachel pleaded.

Bubba stalked up to Dash, who suddenly realized that
his words had been overheard. “You lassoed Rocky off that float because you wanted me to move on with my life?” he asked.

“Uh, well, see, Bubba, it’s not so simple.” Dash looked just like a little kid who’d gotten caught sneaking Daddy’s cigarettes.

“Yeah, so, explain?”

“Well, it’s just that Rocky said that you needed something really big to rattle your cage, and I just figured that with Aunt Mim’s forecast for her and all, that if I lassoed her, well… Shoot, Bubba, you know how this town is. They gossip about everything.”

Bubba frowned, and Rachel knew things were going to get out of hand. “C’mon, Bubba, how about some funnel cake?”

Bubba ignored her. “Yeah, I know all about this town. And it seems to me you just let that fancy English dude pay five hundred dollars for Rocky, and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop him. How you think folks are going to take that?”

“Well, I don’t know. I reckon there will be talk. Bubba, there’s always talk.”

“Yeah, I know. And it’s always wrong.” Bubba pulled on the brim of his ball cap and stalked away, heading in the opposite direction of the funnel cake stand.

A lump the size of a pecan lodged in Rachel’s throat. “Rocky had no idea you were going to lasso her, did she?” she said to Dash. “And she had no idea you were going to let that Englishman buy her.”

Dash shrugged. “Nope, I reckon not. But Rocky’s tough. She can take care of herself.”

“Right. You’re a jerk, Dash Randall, you know that?”

And Rachel stalked off heading for the funnel cake stand. Maybe a big, heaping plate of the stuff would be enough to fill the suddenly gaping hole in her heart.

Caroline sat in one of the Ferris wheel chairs grabbing the safety bar with all her might as the wheel moved back and upward one place and then rocked in the summer air.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights,” Hugh said.

She gave him a wild stare. He was going to seek payment for every one of those kisses he’d bought. And what better place for kissing than the Ferris wheel. The setup was corny and classic, and she had a horrible feeling she knew how it would end.

She looked down. It wasn’t that far to fall… yet.

“Uh, no, not really afraid of heights. I…” Her voice pinched with her confusion. “Look, I’m just not sure this is a good idea.”

He looked around at the structure of the ride. “I don’t see any obvious structural defects.”

She laughed in spite of herself. He was being adorable. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I was told that Dash had arranged to buy up my kisses. You weren’t supposed to bid for them at all. And you weren’t supposed to kiss me like that in front of everyone either. People don’t like to be surprised. Surprised people talk, and this time the gossip is going to be vicious. I’m so tired of being the talk of the town.”

The car lurched back, then the wheel stopped again as they loaded more passengers. The drop was getting bigger all the time. A girl could fall and get hurt. Bad.

“I know you’re tired of the gossip. But what’s done is done. Let’s… enjoy the magic of the moment.” He
pulled her away from the safety bar and snuggled her right beside him, resting his arm along her shoulders. His warm hand found the skin of her upper arm.

Her pulse surged.

“You’re an engineer. You don’t believe in magic.”

“Did I ever say that?”

“You said you were a skeptic this morning.”

“Oh, that was about fortune-tellers. And you have to admit that most fortune-tellers are charlatans. Just because I’m skeptical of people like that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in magic. I’m a man who has been known to live in a fantasy world at times. And look around you, all those twinkling lights, the barkers on the midway, the smell of the sweet cakes. This is not the real world, Caroline. This is a world laden with summer magic.”

“Wow, for an engineer you have a way with words.”

“Look, darling, just for this afternoon, can’t we leave the real world aside? Ride this Ferris wheel and see what happens next?”

“I told you this morning at church that we needed to make sure nothing happened.”

“Because Miriam Randall says we’re wrong for one another?”

“No, that’s not the only reason. Getting involved with you isn’t a good idea. I have a conflict of interest.”

“Because of your father?”

“Among other things.”

“Well, we both know I’m not going to build my factory on that land George bought. So let’s dispense with that excuse, shall we?” He pulled her closer still and slanted another kiss across her lips. She didn’t stop him. She was powerless to stop him. She loved every minute
of kissing him. He was amazing and warm and charming and sweet, and tasted like… Well, something so sinful it was better than a jelly-filled doughnut.

The car rocked backward, but this time it didn’t stop. She went weightless, but whether from the kiss or the ride, she didn’t know. She tilted her head back and looked up at the deep, endless blue of the afternoon sky. And started to laugh.

And Hugh laughed with her. She snuggled a little closer. Her curves fit perfectly against the hard planes of his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder.

She should let go of her worries and her plans—just for a moment. This was the Watermelon Festival. Once, a long time ago, she hadn’t worried about things like gossip or careers or land deals or economic recovery. Once, she’d just been a kid, drawn by the lights and sweet food and the thrill of it all.

She and Hugh rode the Ferris wheel five times, and by the time they finally gave it up, Caroline was light-headed and breathless from the fun and the kisses and the promise of more.

They made their way down the midway. Hugh excelled at games of skill, winning her a plush tiger that was as ugly as it was huge.

He made her eat funnel cake and a corn dog. They drank lemonade and ate peach cobbler. They spent a long time in the fun house in one of the dark corners doing something that Hugh called “snogging.”

And when dusk finally came, they headed to the dance pavilion, where she taught him how to do the boot scoot and the two-step. He was real good at two-stepping. He said it was a lot like the fox trot, which reminded her that
he was a fantasy. No good ol’ boy, salt of the earth, regular Joe knew how to dance the fox trot.

By the time the band struck up a waltz, she was ready for it. He took her into his arms and moved her across the dance floor like Prince Charming.

She wanted to fall in love with him, just like Cinderella. But she wasn’t going to. She was way smarter than to fall for the twinkly lights and the midsummer magic.

He must have known what she was thinking because he stopped dancing and put his mouth over hers again, knowing good and well that she stopped thinking when he kissed her. Her whole body wanted more than these kisses. Her body felt taut with pent-up sexual need. All this kissing and not a lot of touching had left her breathless with want.

He broke the kiss and linked a string of little nips across her cheek to her ear. “We need to get out of here,” he said.

She pushed back and looked up at him. His eyes were darker than normal. His lips looked soft. His hair was a complete mess of curls. She wanted him. But she was smarter than that.

Sharon’s words came back to her.
You don’t run off with some man unless you can’t live without him.

She could live without Hugh deBracy. In fact, she was very good at living without men in her life. She loved her job. She liked her life. She wasn’t looking for a fling. She wasn’t even looking for love, except in the pages of a romance novel.

He held her closer and whispered in her ear, “You want this as much as I do.” She laid her head on his shoulder.

“You do,” he insisted.

She took his hand and led him from the dance floor. She stopped to put on her shoes and pick up the big ugly tiger that he’d won for her. Then she headed toward the exit and back out onto the midway, where the food vendors and games of chance were closing up for the night.

She turned toward him. “We can’t,” she said.

“We can’t what?”

“Go to the Peach Blossom Motor Court.”

“The place that sells the rooms by the hour?”

“The very same.”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, Lillian Bray keeps a telescope trained on the parking lot at the Peach Blossom. For another, my brother patrols over there. And for a third, it would be a big mistake.”

She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating.

“I want to go there,” he said, his voice rumbling in her ear.

“I know,” she replied, letting herself get a fraction closer. “But we can’t.”

“Why ever not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” She pulled back and looked him straight in the eye. “It’s a wonderful fantasy, but it’s not real. It’s just watermelon magic. You know? And tonight, because we’re both sober, we should act soberly. You know as well as I do that we would regret it in the morning.” Her voice sounded thick. It cost her dearly to say those words.

He didn’t say anything for the longest time. But his eyes, which she had once thought were cool and remote,
didn’t look anything like that as he gazed down at her. “Can I take you home?” he asked.

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